Diary of a Mad Fat Girl (15 page)

“
Go get your own dog!” I
yell.

“
He is my dog!” Mason yells back. “You
really don’t get it do you?”

“
Get the hell away from me,” I say a
little quieter. “Get the hell out of here. Get away from me and
don’t you ever,
ever
steal my
dog again.”

“
He’s our dog,” he says quietly. “I
bought him for us.”

“
Oh, my God! Are you serious?” I yell.
“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“
Ace, I want you back. I never wanted
you to leave. Please, can you just calm down and talk to
me?”

“
What the hell is wrong with you,
Mason?” I ask in my super-smart-assed- sarcastic voice. “It’s over
between us. It’s been over for three years if you haven’t noticed.
I wasn’t good enough for you, remember?”

“
Could you try to calm down,
please?”

“
What happened to make you come back?”
I ask with a smirk. “Some little Hawaiian Tropic girl dump you
cause you’re closer to 40 than 25? Start losing your hair so you
come running back to your old reliable chubby-lover?”

“
I’m not losing my hair,” he mumbles,
rubbing his head.

“
Well, why now? Huh? Why now?” I stare
at him and he stares at the ground. “You stole my dog! You stole my
fucking dog! I don’t need this! Your sense of self-entitlement
makes me sick!”

“
What?” he looks at me like I’m
speaking Hebrew. “Why can’t you just settle down? Could you please,
for once in your life, settle down and stop being so mad? You’re
mad all the time. Have you ever noticed that?”

“
How in the hell do you know I’m mad
all the time?” I ask then I start lying for real. “For your
information, I’m very happy with my life right now.”

“
Right, right,” he says quietly and
nods his head, “of course. Well, I’m sorry for coming here and
trying to wreck your happy home. I won’t bother you
anymore.”

And with that he turns and walks out the
gate. I want to run after him and tell him how much I’ve missed him
and how much I love him and that I want to have little Mason babies
with him. Instead, I just stand there and watch him go.

I hear my cell phone and know by the ring
tone that it’s Lilly and I’m as thankful for the distraction as I
am that she didn’t send me a stupid text instructing me to call her
because that would’ve pushed me over the edge.

“
Hey,” I say trying to sound normal.
“What’s up?”

“
Richard Stacks left home thirty
minutes ago and he’s on Highway 72 headed west.”

“
He’s going to Memphis, isn’t
he?”

“
Yep. And so are we.”

“
Alright then, I’ll be there
directly.”

“
Ready and waiting!” Lilly
exclaims.

“
Hey,” I ask before she hangs up,
“would you mind if Buster Loo comes along?”

31

Before I back out of her driveway, I make it
clear to Lilly that we will not be discussing Mason McKenzie unless
she wants to start dishing about her Uncle Rye and Reece Hilliard.
So we hate on Principal Catherine Hilliard all the way to
Memphis.

“
I can’t believe she called me a
slut!” Lilly exclaims.

“
Well, I started to agree with her,” I
say, “but then I remembered I’m on ‘Team Slut Girlz’ and I’m a
loyal fan.”

“
You are such an idiot,” she shakes
her head. “I’ll have you a shirt made.”

“
Seriously, Lilly, I’m gonna beat the
brakes off that heifer before all this is over.”

“
We should follow her home one night
and jump her in her driveway.”

“
Oh, that’s a great idea!” I say.
“Let’s turn around and do it tonight!”

“
We’ll definitely put that on our
to-do list,” Lilly says, “but tonight we’ve got bigger fish to
fry.”

“
I’d like to fry his ass for real,” I
say and glance over at Lilly. “You don’t think we’re wasting our
time following him all the way to Memphis, do you?”

“
Not if we hit up the Rum Boogie Café
afterwards,” Lilly says.

“
What a fantastic idea,” I reply, “do
a little stalking then cut a little rug to some blues
sounds.”

“
Hell yeah,” Lilly says and we slap
high five like some first class dorks.

“
Where’s that dot?”

“
Appears to be stopped at the
Ladies4Gentleman Club,” she says, studying her net book. “You need
to take the next exit and then it’s about three blocks
west.”

“
What a surprise,” I mumble. “A titty
bar.”

“
Well, at least you don’t have to
worry about this being a wasted trip.”

When I pull into the parking lot of
Ladies4Gentleman, it only takes a second to spot Richard Stacks’
shiny white Lexus because it’s parked right next the main entrance.
I survey the area to make sure he’s not standing in the shadows
somewhere getting his fat little weenie waxed by some random
lady-for-hire. I take control of the camera because I don’t believe
Lilly when she swears the flash is turned off this time for real. I
get out and squat down behind his car so I can capture his
personalized tag along with the neon sign above the entrance. I
snap a few shots then see a gaggle of men walking toward the door
so I run back to the car.

“
You wanna go in?” Lilly
asks.

“
Hell no! Are you crazy?” I say and
turn to snap a picture of Buster Loo standing in the back window
with his face and ass both facing forward.

“
You’ve never been in a strip club
before, have you?” Lilly asks, like I’m some kind of
sissy.

“
No, and I don’t plan on going anytime
soon,” I answer in my most puritanical tone.

“
We could dress up,” she says, “like
in a disguise.”

“
With what?” I ask sarcastically. “Are
you gonna tie Buster Loo up in your hair and go in as Lady GaGa’s
long lost sister, Lady BuLoo?”

“
No, you moron! According to this,”
she taps the small screen of her net book, “there’s a place that
rents costumes just around the block.”

“
You want to go rent a costume in
downtown Memphis at nine o’clock on a Saturday night?”

“
Why not?” she says. “Then we could go
inside and get some
real
pictures.” I stare straight ahead and I can feel her staring
at me. “Ace, think about it. What are we going to accomplish
sitting out here in the parking lot snapping pictures of his
car?”

“
What if he leaves?”

“
Well, we’ll follow him, dumbass,” she
says sarcastically. “Just like we followed him up here. Now c’mon,
let’s go. According to this, the store is only a quarter mile from
here.”

“
I don’t know, Lilly.”

“
Ace, would you consider for one
second how Chloe’s mind works? Is a nice, glossy picture of his car
gonna do it? Hell, no! He can deny that all day long, but if we get
a picture of him getting a lap dance, well, now that’s a little
harder to explain, don’t you think?”

“
We’ve got that picture of him wearing
that dog collar.”

“
Not enough,” she says, “you said that
yourself!”

“
Is it worth risking our lives to try
and rent a costume in this part of town?” I ask, “and what would we
be? White pimps with boobs? Santa Claus and his pet
clown?”

“
What? Pet clown? Hell, no!” Lilly
sighs with exasperation. “We could get wigs and stuff.”

“
Oh my God, is there a drug store
close by where I can pick up some lice shampoo and go ahead and
massage it into my scalp?” I quip as I pull out into the
traffic.

“
Oh good word!” Lilly hollers. “You
can sit in the car and I’ll do this myself!”

“
Nah,” I say, like fickle child
picking out a toy, “I don’t wanna sit in the car. I think I’ll try
to find a Batman costume.”

“
Oh, good word,” Lilly says again. “I
am going to choke you. Turn in right here.”

“
If you choke me, you don’t get to be
Robin,” I say with a smirk as I pull into the parking lot of
Downtown Diggs and Costume Rental
.
“Is this place even open this time of night?”

“
Their website says they’re open till
10 p.m.,” she looks at me. “Now move your ass, please!”

“
This place has a website?”

“
Shut up and get out of the
car!”

I get out of the car and do my best to
ignore the whistles and caws wafting through the dark, humid air.
Lilly struts to the door like she’s on a fashion runway and I
scurry behind her like I’m on a runway, too. The runway of Memphis
International Airport, that is, about to get run down by a FedEx
plane.

“
Act cool,” Lilly whispers, “they can
smell fear.”

“
They can smell this,” I say and pat
my satchel.

“
Oh my God, don’t tell me you brought
your damn gun,” she whispers and pushes the door open.

“
Hell yeah. Got her right here,” I
whisper back, keeping my hand on the bulge in my bag. “Never go to
Memphis without The Pink Lady.”

“
Have you ever fired that at anything
besides a watermelon?”

“
Sure, I hit that fake deer in Ethan’s
back yard once, why?”

“
Let’s just find a good disguise and
get out of here before you get in a shoot-out with a
mannequin.”

The large lady behind the sales desk
eyeballs us as we start to look around.

“
Evenin’ ladies,” she drawls. “Can I
help y’all find somethin’?”

“
Just looking,” Lilly chimes.
“Thanks.”

The lady raises her eyebrows as we start
browsing through a rack of black dresses. Several look like they
might fit me, but even the smallest one looks twice the size of
Lilly’s skinny ass.

Something is not right.

“
Are you all sure I can’t help you?”
the sales lady asks, making her way over to us. “My name is Mrs.
Ella Mae,” she says and smiles a big, warm smile, “and I really
think you girls could use a little assistance.” Her voice is smooth
and beautiful and I start imagining her crooning old southern hymns
on Beale Street.

“
Are these all plus-sizes?” I ask,
holding up a dress that looks like it might fit me.

“
Sweetheart, those are
men’s
sizes,” she says and gives me
a look of genuine sympathy. “What exactly are you looking
for?”

I stand there like a statue staring at the
dress dangling from the hanger and all I can think about is that
blue dress that belonged to Monica Lewinsky.

“
Well,” Lilly says, unaffected by the
fact that she was just sifting through garments worn by drag
queens, “we need to get in that titty bar down the road and get
some pictures of our friend’s husband and we don’t want to be
recognized but we don’t want to draw a lot of attention to
ourselves either,” she pauses. “Do you have anything we could do
that in?”

“
Oh, absolutely,” Mrs. Ella Mae says,
still smiling. She turns Lilly around in a circle, sizing her up.
“Must be a good friend of yours to go to this kind of
trouble.”

“
It is and he’s a piece of dog shit,”
I offer.

Mrs. Ella Mae laughs out loud and takes me
by the hand. “Now let me see what you’re working with, sweetheart.”
I turn for her and she nods her head and says, “Looks like I need a
2 long and a 16 short,” she looks back at forth between us, “that
sound about right?”

“
Sadly, yes,” I say and she laughs out
loud again.

“
I like you alright, sweetie,” she
says, “and I’m gonna fix you two gals up. Just take me a
minute.”

I give Lilly a smug look. “She likes me,” I
say with a snort.

“
She wouldn’t if she knew you were
packin’ heat in her store.”

“
She might like me even better,” I
reply smartly.

“
You girls try and find some shoes
that fit you on that back wall over there and I’m going to roll out
the wigs for you in just a minute,” Mrs. Ella Mae calls from behind
a blue paneled wall.

“
Shoes and wigs,” Lilly says. “This is
fun!”

“
Do you think catching cooties is fun,
too?” I ask.

“
Shut up and come on,” she snarls at
me. “Ace, I swear, you’re not near as much fun as you used to be.
Loosen up a little and let’s have some fun!”

“
Oh,” I say, stung by the
quasi-insult. “Pardon
my
ignorance.”

We try on all shapes, styles, and colors of
stiletto heels because stiletto heels are the only shoes they have
on the shelf at Downtown Diggs. I pick out a black pointy toe pair
embellished with rhinestones and Lilly chooses a leopard print peep
toe with red trim and black bead cat-eyes sewn onto the top. I
remind her that we’re aiming for low key and she reminds me that
we’re going to a strip club.

Lilly tries on every wig on Mrs. Ella Mae’s
wig cart and, after several minutes of self-admiration, decides on
a long, sleek black one with blunt-cut bangs. I don’t try on a
single one and instruct Lilly to get me the short blond bob with
tapered bangs and I don’t intend to put in on my head until I run
in a drug store and get a shower cap. And lice shampoo.